Two can play this game
by kofcydonia
Summary: The beginning of the new term proves to be more interesting than Hermione expected. Oneshot.


Please be gentle, I'm not a native speaker and don't own any of the characters...but I do like reviews and welcome suggestions for improvement! :)

As soon as Hermione sat down at Gryffindor table, next to Harry and Ron - who were, once again, busy talking about the latest developments in the Quidditch league - she let her gaze wander through the great Hall. Like at the beginning of every new school year, the Great Hall had been decorated in all house colours and with everyone busily chatting to each other, remembering their holidays and speculating about the new classes that awaited them, there was quite a lot of noise.

After glancing at every house table, trying to calculate how many new first years Hogwarts would be welcoming this year, Hermione turned towards the high table, her attention automatically drawn to a head of dark black and slightly oily shining hair.

The owner of said hair was featuring his usual scowl and seemed to be staring into deep space, his head slightly tilted to the right. Despite him appearing lost in his thoughts, Hermione only had a second to study the defined features of his face that were dominated by a prominent nose and briefly thought "very Roman...", before the object of her interest suddenly became aware of her stare.

Within seconds and without so much as looking around questioningly, fathomless onyx eyes met warm, honey coloured ones.

Hermiones' heart skipped a beat, while Snape continued to look at her calmly.

How long had it been since they had last seen each other, Hermione pondered, while wiping her suddenly sweaty hands on her cloak. Her eyes were still focussed on her professor's, when he - slowly and deliberately - raised one eyebrow. This gesture changed his face into that certain smug expression, which frequently made Harry furious.

Hermione felt heat creeping up her cheeks. Bastard.

She broke their little staring contest and looked down on the tabletop, trying to calm herself. Three weeks. Three fucking weeks without a single word had gone by since that evening in Grimmauld Place. Hermione squared her shoulders...two could play this game.

She raised her head again and found - as expected - Snape's eyes still trained on her.

This time though, she didn't allow herself to be confused by his dark and neutral gaze, instead taking a deep breath. Then, with all her might, she pushed a memory to the surface of her mind, knowing that this memory was now shining like a bright light to a skilled Legilimens.

Snape's eyes widened a fraction.

"Come on", Hermione muttered. "I know you're interested".

She was right. Abruptly, she felt a feathery presence on the outskirts of her mind.

He was good. Careful and guarded.

But Hermione knew that already... otherwise he would have never survived this war until now.

What her opponent didn't know though, was that Hermione had made good use of those agonising three weeks.

In a split second, Hermione opened up her mind completely and used Snape's surprise to pull him deep into her memory.

_Grimmauld Place. The Library._

_Her hand on the doorknob._

_Snape, who pulled her back by her sleeve._

_Entangled bodies pressed against the door._

_Her arms, held in place over her head by two strong hands._

_Her legs wrapped around his hips._

_So close, as if they were competing in a contest of taking up space that was already occupied by the other._

_Teeth sucking at bottom lips._

_Tongues battling for dominance._

_Heavy breathing, broken by sudden moans._

_Nothing tender, but a contest for power._

She was pushed back abruptly and came back to reality, gasping for air.

Hogwarts. Great Hall. Gryffindor Table. Surrounded by her fellow students.

Snape had forcefully pulled himself from her memory and was now staring at her with dilated pupils, his breath - even if barely noticeable - quickened.

Hermione smiled languidly and - mimicking the potion master's favourite gesture - raised a questioning eyebrow.

Snape's eyes appeared to be an even darker colour than usual, before he slightly tilted his head again and allowed a nearly feral grin to grace his features for a second. Hermione felt shivers running down her spine. As quickly as he met her gaze earlier, Snape now shifted in his seat nonchalantly and began a conversation with the unknowing Professor Flitwick, who was sitting to his right.

Hermione exhaled a breath of air she hadn't been aware she was holding.

This promised to be a rather interesting term.


End file.
